


Polished

by ramshackleheads



Series: Eremin Week 2015 [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3968251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramshackleheads/pseuds/ramshackleheads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[eremin week 2015, day 1: HANDS!]</p><p>Armin goes to a nail salon for the first time and gets a little bit more than his nails cleaned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Polished

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! it's eremin week and i'll do my very best to keep up with the prompts orz

The nail salon, well, it looked any old nail salon — oversized reclining chairs, a whole rack of nail polish on one side, and a bored looking receptionist. Annie, who was sitting behind the counter, didn’t hate her job, but she didn’t exactly like it either. The only real reason she agreed to open a nail salon with Mikasa was because she had nothing else better to do in her gap year. It was a good enough way to pass time and earn money, she supposed, and her friend didn’t really care how Annie did her job as long as she got what she needed to do done.

(Given, she had received numerous complaints from a plethora of suburban soccer moms, telling her to drop the attitude and put a smile on her face for once. They had gone directly to the owner, who happened to be Mikasa, but the black haired girl couldn’t care less about what they had to say, either.)

In their seven-going-on-eight months of being a fairly successful establishment in the neighborhood, Annie and Mikasa’s business never really encountered huge insurmountable problems – getting customers wasn’t very difficult because their location was near a bunch of schools and the suburbs. Money wasn’t an issue either; there was more than enough flowing in to keep everything afloat. But this particular summer, their employees (who were all students desperate for some pocket money) were all off to vacation somewhere far away. That, or they simply had better things to do besides touch people’s feet all summer. Mikasa couldn’t blame them.

That was when Eren, the Asian girl’s stepbrother, reluctantly became employed at A&M’s Nail Salon. It took weeks of persuasion until the boy snapped and gave in to Mikasa’s pleading. The job would only last for a few months, and it was pretty much a win-win situation, or so Eren was told. He’d get paid, and it would give Annie and Mikasa (well, mostly Mikasa) one less thing to worry about.

The chimes above the door jingled, creating a happy, musical sound in the otherwise quiet area. Annie took her eyes off her phone and looked over the counter to see a small, blond boy standing by the door with a reserved look on his face.

“Hey, pipsqueak,” the girl called, still eyeing him neutrally. “You got an appointment?”

Pipsqueak turned his head and looked over to Annie, and gave a genial wave. “Oh, hey, didn’t see you there. Yeah, I do, for a manicure.”

With a sigh, the receptionist swiveled her chair to face the computer and maximized the window that displayed spreadsheet for the appointments. “Name?”

“Uh, Armin. Armin Arlert.”

“Hm. You don’t look like our typical customer,” Annie chuckled softly, making a few clicks on the computer.

He grinned and leaned on the counter. “Who’s your typical customer then?”

“Soccer moms. So, do you have any preferred person you’d want to clip your nails or–”

“It’s my first time actually!” Armin cut in abruptly, his thick eyebrows shooting up. “Actually, I’ll let you in on a secret. I actually don’t know how to cut my nails… My grandpa used to do it for me but he kicked the bucket recently.” His whole face went red.

Annie’s eyes widened minutely. “Woah, alright. I don’t think I want to know why you don’t know how to cut your own damn nails, but whatever. I’ll let Eren take care of you.”

The blonde girl slowly got up from her chair and went into a back room, presumably where the staffers stayed when they weren’t tending to customers.

“Eren!” she called out, rather monotonously. “You’re up.”

Armin heard a high pitched whine from the back room, and a raspy voice groaning about being woken up from a nap.

A few seconds later, Annie came out from the room with a brown haired guy behind her. The blond figured this was Eren, and in his defense, he looked like he needed a good night’s sleep. He was wearing an off white t-shirt that looked two sizes too small, complete with the A&M Nail Salon logo, and overworn black jeans.

Annie sighed. “Here’s Eren. Armin, you can sit wherever you want. Doesn’t really matter.”

* * *

 

The chairs were more comfortable than they looked, to be honest. Eren was currently laying out his arsenal of tools he would be using to clean Armin’s nails.

“So what’s your name?” the brunet asked warmly.

“It’s Armin. You’re Eren, right?”

“Yup. Don’t judge me for working here, ‘kay? I was forced into this by my sister,” he said quietly, so that Annie wouldn’t catch wind of what he was saying.

The blond chuckled, shaking his head. “No judgement here! I work at a mascot at this restaurant downtown.”

Eren’s head snapped up, almost comically, displaying his wide amber eyes. “Woah, that actually sucks, dude!”

Armin simply huffed out. The brunet took his right hand onto the soft cushioned armrest and laid it out, massaging it thoroughly. Eren’s hands were the opposite of the blond’s; they were rough and more masculine, whereas Armin’s were daintier, softer, and slimmer. The calloused skin actually felt good rubbing against his, rubbing out all the knots.

The brunet then took out a sharp, angled tool to scrape off the dirt on his client’s fingernails, then sprayed it with some scented alcohol.

“Say what you want, but you’re actually really good at this,” Armin smiled, observing Eren’s handiwork. He was now carefully brushing his nails with a small rectangular brush.

The staffer rolled his eyes and gave the other a playful look from under his eyelashes (which were exceptionally thick and dark, according to the blond’s careful observation). “At least I have a fallback.”

“Oh, you’re in college?” Armin asked, curious.

“Yeah. Studying electrical engineering. So it might explain why I’m good with my hands and all.”

The blond hummed, taking the information in. “Cool. I’m studying chem.”

The conversation kind of died of after that. Eren seemed really concentrated, and like he was actually enjoying himself cleaning Armin’s nails. He carefully clipped them, filed them, and buffed them, making them look flawless. The whole atmosphere was relaxing – ambient music played through the speakers, and it was quiet, save for that and Annie’s occasional sigh from the corner behind the counter.

Armin leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes, letting the brunet do his thing. He had since moved on to his left hand, and was repeating the same process, complete with the massage. He could feel himself drifting off to sleep, his eyes drooping against his will. But who could blame him? Eren’s hands servicing his was strangely relaxing.

Just as he was going to doze off for sure, Armin thought he heard the other boy say something, mostly to himself. His voice was soft and low, and the sound was as soothing as the touch of his hands. His words sounded something like, “Your hands are really, really, nice.”

* * *

 

The next thing he knew, Armin was being shaken awake by hands on his shoulders. He didn’t know how long he slept, but it couldn’t have been that long – the sun was still high up outside. Two other customers were seated in the other armchairs, being tended to by the staffers that looked about Eren’s age. And Annie was right – they fit the bill of their “usual customers”.

“Hey, Armin,” Eren said, getting his attention. He sounded vaguely apprehensive, and he wasn’t meeting the blond’s eyes.

He stretched his back against the seat and yawned, quickly apologizing. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to fall asleep, it’s just that your hands felt so good and I haven’t felt that relaxed in awhile,” he said, blushing and laughing embarrassedly.

Eren let go of his shoulder and smoothed down the fabric. “Uh, well… We’re done,” he said shyly, which was odd, because the boy was pretty outgoing right before Armin fell asleep. The blond arched his eyebrow skeptically.

“Is there anything wrong?”

The brunet scratched the back of his head and put on a half-smile, which was ridiculously attractive in Armin’s eyes. A weird, warm sensation came over the blond.

“I, uh. Kinda got carried away and forgot what you were here for,” Eren admitted quickly. “I couldn’t help it, okay! Your hands are just that great!”

That gained the attention of the two of the other customers, who gave them distasteful looks from their chairs.

"Uh," Armin said. Then he held his hands up to look at his nails, just to see what nonsense Eren was talking about.

His nails were cleaned and cut alright, but they were also painted a pale violet, complete with the french tip. Not only that, but each nail had a number on it, painted black, deliberately and neatly...

The blond squinted. He was surprised — of course he would be. Eren was quietly sitting on his little stool with a bright red face and a few beads of sweat threatening to run down his neck. But in reality, Armin didn't really mind the nail polish. He was just trying to decipher the numbers—

"When I was doing it, I thought I was being real smooth but with the way you're squinting at your nails kinda says otherwise," the brunet mumbled. "I can remove it if you want, free of charge! Just don't tell Annie, I guess."

Armin looked up at the other boy and shook his head quickly. "Wait, no! I think it's kinda cute!"

Eren's face brightened up, and a wide grin replaced the embarrassed expression that was previously on his face.

"I, uh. What do the numbers mean though?"

The brunet's eyes crinkled up and he laughed. It was a loud laugh, and it suited him. "That's my number!"

It was Armin's turn to turn pink, all the way down to his toes. "Oh— thank you, I guess?"

The two other customers scowled at them, apparently having overheard their conversation. Annie still sat behind her counter, apathetically letting time pass.

* * *

 

Armin never expected to become a regular at A&M's Nail Salon. After the incident with his purple nails, he immediately saved Eren's contact info into his phone. He found himself coming back every week to get his nails cleaned (and occasionally painted if he felt like it). The brunet would see him every time.

He could even say he was slowly becoming friends with Annie. The two made light conversation when waiting for Eren to come out. Armin also came around to meeting Mikasa. When he confessed that he and her step brother were kind of a thing, the girl let out a sigh of relief and cryptically thanked him. Armin took it as a good sign, maybe even a sign of approval.

The sixth time he came in for an appointment, Eren finally asked the blond out on a proper date. He accepted right away, as the brunet gently painted his nails pink with a pleased smile on his tan face.


End file.
